Poems begining by O
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O Do Not Leave Me
© George MacDonald
O do not leave me, mother, lest I weep;
Till I forget, be near me in that chair.
The mother's presence leads her down to sleep-
Leaves her contented there.
On The Slaughter
© Hayyim Nahman Bialik
Heaven, beg mercy for me! If there is
a God in you, a pathway through
Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 04 - Nothing Exists Per Se Except Atoms And The Void
© Lucretius
But, now again to weave the tale begun,
All nature, then, as self-sustained, consists
Ode to Marie-Anne-Charlotte Corday
© André Marie de Chénier
Le noir serpent, sorti de sa caverne impure,
A donc vu rompre enfin sous ta main ferme et sûre
le venimeux tissu de ses jours abhorrés!
Aux entrailles du tigre, à ses dents homicides,
Tu vins demander et les membres livides
Et le sang des humains qu'il avait dévorés!
Ode for an Agricultural Celebration
© William Cullen Bryant
Far back in the ages,
The plough with wreaths was crowned;
The hands of kings and sages
Entwined the chaplet round;
Ode to Walt Whitman
© Federico Garcia Lorca
By the East River and the Bronx
boys were singing, exposing their waists
with the wheel, with oil, leather, and the hammer.
Ninety thousand miners taking silver from the rocks
and children drawing stairs and perspectives.
On The Day Of The Destruction Of Jerusalem By Titus
© George Gordon Byron
From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,
I beheld thee, oh Sion! when render'd to Rome:
'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall
Flash'd back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
Only We
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Dream no more that grief and pain
Could such hearts as ours enchain,
Safe from loss and safe from gain,
Free, as love makes free.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book VI - Part 02 - Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc
© Lucretius
And so in first place, then
With thunder are shaken the blue deeps of heaven,
Otters
© Padraic Colum
I hold him up
The glittering salmon that smells of the sea:
I hold him up and whistle!
On A Bird
© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin
A sweet-voiced bird's been caught.
They squeeze it in a vice-like grip.
The poor thing squeaks and warbles not
But they insist: "O, birdie, sing!"
On The Source of The Arve
© George MacDonald
Hears't thou the dash of water, loud and hoarse,
With its perpetual tidings upward climb,
On The Conduct Of The World Seeking Beauty Against Government
© Allen Ginsberg
Is that the only way we can become like Indians, like Rhinoceri,
like Quartz Crystals, like organic farmers, like what we imagine
O Corvo (Portuguese translation of Poe's "Raven")
© Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis
Em certo dia, à hora
Da meia-noite que apavora,
Eu, caindo de sono e exausto de fadiga,
Ao pé de muita lauda antiga,
Oxford In WarTime
© Robert Laurence Binyon
What alters you, familiar lawn and tower,
Arched alley, and garden green to the gray wall
With crumbling crevice and the old wine--red flower,
Solitary in summer sun? for all
